In an instant everything changes for seventeen-year-old Cassie Moore. Together she and her time-traveling boyfriend, Trent Astor, battle to survive their next impossible challenge. As they navigate through a third parallel world in which Cassie begged Trent to create for her, the two soon discover that no world can be made perfect.And while they fight through their new circumstances, the universe may just have its own agenda for them both.Meanwhile, it seems Trent and his sister, Lorelai, will never be safe from the greedy world and its hunger for Trent's power. A new force threatens to destroy the anonymity Trent has fought for his entire life unless he can stop this new opposition first. But every choice has a consequence, and Trent is faced with the most difficult choice of his life.Set in contemporary Northern California, The Vortex Series is a teen romance for those who also enjoy a bit of science fiction and fantasy. Told in two perspectives, we get an intimate view of both Cassie and Trent’s worlds. Family relationships, how they interconnect and drive our personalities, is the heart and soul of this YA time traveling novel.

1. READY OR NOT

CASSIE

A cyclone, a black hole, and an earthquake
of epic proportion. Add to that my shock, and, well, I’ve pretty much summed up
the hell I unwillingly experienced. There I am one moment, ecstatically kissing
my boyfriend, imagining all is right again in my world, and the next I’m
whirling in the dark, gasping for air, while an invisible giant hand squeezes
the bejeezus out of me.

“They’re not daydreams, they’re flashes!”
Those were the last chilling words Trent screamed at me and . . . Poof! Gone in a blink is the boy I love. Ripped from my hands before I
could ask him why his eyes were flashing with terror in the middle of our sweet
reunion. My body, previously rooted outside my tennis club’s locker room, was
hijacked and thrown into a horrific virtual roller coaster. Death, I thought
surely, was the only possible outcome.

Is that torture a sampling of traveling
through time? Because, as insane as the idea is, I think that’s precisely what
happened. I jumped time.

But how could that be? I’m not a time
traveler. That burden falls on Trent. Has his supernatural power suddenly
become contagious, like mono? That would be just my luck. Or maybe he somehow
accidentally transported me along with him. It’s never been done before, but I
guess there’s a first for everything. Although it does defy everything we know
about his powers.

Afraid to open my eyes, I grope around me,
hopeful that Trent’s body is near and waiting to be discovered. Unfortunately, I
only come up with handful of dirt, fingering objects that resemble sharp, dry
needles.

“Trent?” I croak. “Are you here?”

Silence.

I swallow a bitter taste in my mouth—a
cocktail of fear mixed with panic. My mind races through questions as fast as
my heartbeat. Where am I? Am I alone? What exactly has happened to me?

Ready to at least face wherever it is I am,
I attempt to crack open my eyes. They begin to water immediately, blurring from
dizziness. The world rocks around me. Moaning, I reach for my head and tuck
into a ball, willing the spinning to stop. I can’t think. All I can do is
breathe. The deeper I fill my lungs, I learn, the better the recovery. The
cool, heavy air smells like pine and damp woods, which is both soothing and
terrifying.

Slowly, with careful movements, I manage to
shift around onto my hands and knees. I think it’s progress, but before I can
choke it back, I vomit. When that wave of nausea ends, another comes charging
through me. I vomit again and again, ejecting my insides like someone being
exorcised. My muscles from feet to neck are clenched tight, aching with the
slightest movement.

After one last exhausting cough, my stomach
calms down. The dizziness ends as well. I chance opening my eyes, and this time
I’m able to keep them open, a sense of being more steady and grounded to the
earth resonating through me. Sinking back onto my heels, I take in the scenery.
I’m awestruck by the view of a grand forest. It’s very green and heavily
wooded. Diagonal beams of light filter through an array of giant spruce,
redwood, and pine trees, warming my face and highlighting the layer of mulch I
polluted with my filth.

I’m stunned, petrified that I really did
travel to some other place. My gaze roams around me, still clinging to the hope
of finding Trent, but as far as I can tell, I’m all alone. My throat tightens
at the thought—alone in a mature, wild forest. God only knows what year it is
or for what purpose I’ve been sent here.

I hang my head in my hands. Wow, am I
sincerely debating what year it is? I have so lost it. Never in my wildest
imagination could I foresee something this insane happening to me. But as I
take another gander at my current setting, I can’t deny I’m no longer home in
Pleasanton, California.

Although there’s nothing left in my stomach,
it doesn’t stop me from a surge of nausea at the harsh reality of my situation.
All I want to do is huddle back into a ball until I can wake up from this
nightmare. A sob escapes my mouth, echoing into the vast forest before it’s
swallowed up by thick layers of bark. Tears threaten to fall until I sniff and
force them to retreat.

No! This blubbering has to stop. There’s no
point in feeling sorry for myself. Wallowing in self-pity will not get me home
any faster. That’s right. Get up and do something, Cassie. Don’t wait for
someone else to rescue you, because this time it looks like you’re on your own.

I take a moment to regroup, coaxing
strength to arise in me. I consider everything I’ve learned about time
traveling. If my instincts are correct and I can make sense of all this, I have
to start accepting the facts. Somehow I’ve miraculously become a time traveler
like Trent. A flyer through time. How this happened is a question to debate
later. But understanding this much means I’m probably the only one who can get
myself home. Me. To play this game and win, a mission has to be met before I’ll
be given a ticket back to the present. It’s the only way.

Freshly determined, I straighten my spine,
eager to figure out this puzzle. In the next moment, an arctic breeze cuts
through my skin, and I’m promptly reminded of what I’m wearing, or not wearing,
as the case may be, for an adventure gallivanting through Sherwood Forest. My
yellow tennis dress looks practically neon compared to the surrounding russet
and emerald hues. It’s of little warmth and even less protection from lethal
branches. By the angle of the sun and the increasing shadows, I can tell it’ll
be dark soon, too. The notion causes me to involuntarily shudder.

Using the aid of a nearby boulder, I claw
my way to my feet. It’s an improvement from crawling on all fours, but I have
Bambi legs, wobbly and feeble. With stiff fingers, I rub my bare arms and bump
into Trent’s leather cuff, too big for my wrist. I forgot I had slid it on at
the tennis match to show Trent that I remembered him. It seems suiting I would
have it in my possession at the moment and certainly comforting to have a piece
of him with me. The necklace he bought me for Christmas, regretfully, is tucked
safely away in my locker back at the club.

A tad more inspired by the bracelet, I trek
through the forest at a pace my Grandma Bertie in her last days could’ve kept
up with. Of course, I have no idea where I’m going. It’s trunks, leafy bushes,
and speckled boulders as far as the eye can see. I’ve yet to find any sign of
other people, which makes trying to save someone a real conundrum. And besides
the occasional squawk followed by a fluttering of wings high up in the trees,
there’s no sign of animals, either. I should probably be grateful for that, but
the eerie silence is creeping me out. The isolation pricks at my nerves. I have
zero supplies unless you count the extra hairband I have in my pocket, which I
don’t. No food or water, no shelter. I can’t think about what I’ll do if I have
to stay the night out here.

As I roam, teeth chattering at the dropping
temperature, I contemplate what Trent would do on one of his missions. Probably
not wig out like me. I’m sure he’s above that by now, having years of completed
missions under his belt, but, hey, this is my virgin jump, so I think I’ll give
myself a break.

Hmm . . . let me see. I suppose Trent would
think back to his flashes. Yes, that’s it! He explained once these spontaneous,
uncontrollable flashes are visions conjured from . . . well, I don’t know where
they come from. From a supernatural force he can’t fully explain. A spiritual
dimension of guides championing his missions, perhaps. These images play
through his mind to give him clues of the victims he’s been summoned to save.

As I told Trent, I thought I was only vividly daydreaming these last few weeks.
Apparently not.

Before I begin to pick through my brain for
images that might help me figure out what I’m doing here, a lone wolf howls a
hundred or so yards away. A second wolf howls until a chorus of haunting wails
sends an icy chill through my bones.

Come on! Seriously? Did it have to be
wolves? It couldn’t have been a horde of gentle bunnies or a herd of harmless,
grass-eating deer?

I’m about to run as fast as I can in the
opposite direction of the howling when a human scream pierces through the
forest. With that scream reverberating through my mind, time stands still.
Suddenly, I become hyperaware of my surroundings, as if I can hear the blood
surging through my veins, sense the microscopic particles floating on my
fingers, see the forest breathing in and out. Soon a flash of a panicked child
in harm’s way burns through my brain, clear as water and impossible to forget.

Got it. It’s no longer a question. As warm
adrenaline courses through my veins, I’m reminded I’ve seen this kid before in
what I thought were meaningless daydreams. An instinct planted somewhere deep
in my core assures me I’ve been sent here for him.

With no more time to ponder, I gallop,
weaving through the thick brush. I am strength. I am power. Leaping over
boulders, I swipe at any branch blocking my path as if I’ve been raised in the
forest and know how to command my way through it. It’s easy to ignore the
thrashing on my naked skin, distracted by the thousands of sharp tingles
invading my nerve endings. It’s an odd sensation—like I have a fever, though
moments ago I was shivering from the cold.

When I reach a small clearing, I find a
young boy, a raccoon hat on top of his head. My heart stops. He’s sitting on
the ground with at least five sandy gray wolves snapping and circling him. He
not only appears to be in horrible pain, but beyond terrified by these beasts
inching closer. I can understand why. These wolves are not your fluffy
Hollywood specimens, but real savages—scrappy, ravenous-looking. Backed up
against a tree, the boy continues to pull at his bloody leg with desperation,
but he can’t seem to free himself. It’s caught in something. A metal animal
trap of some sort. In the meantime, his only weapon is a long branch he
periodically strikes in the air, but it has little effect of scaring the wolves
away.

As I hunch down behind a patch of
shrubbery, my heart caught in my throat, I rack my brain for what I’m supposed
to do next. This is so beyond my expertise. I’m a high school tennis player,
for Pete’s sake, not Davy Crockett. Think, Cassie! What would Trent do?

I scan my surroundings, searching for
anything that might help distract the wolves from wanting to gobble up this
poor kid, but there’s nothing! Only rocks, spiky foliage, and a few dead,
sap-spattered pinecones. I’m debating whether I should take off my tennis shoes
to chuck at the beasts when I hear the boy scream in a way that makes my
stomach lurch. It sounds like a wolf has moved in near enough to nip at him. If
I don’t hurry up and do something, they may all attack him at once. There’ll be
nothing to stop their eating frenzy at that point.

Wait a minute. Rocks!

Without hesitation, I seize a few jagged
rocks the size of my palm that my eyes previously swept past. I spring out from
behind the shrubbery with my ammo, ready for battle. A primitive roar spews
from a deep-rooted part of my spirit, drawing a couple wolves away from the
boy. With superhuman strength, I launch the handful of rocks at them until I nail
one between the eyes. It yelps and stumbles before shaking its head in a daze.
This gets the rest of the pack’s attention. They reassemble, growling as they
tentatively move away from the boy and face my direction.

Oh, crap. This can’t be good.

The wolves advance as one unit, creeping
toward me, stalking me with their raised tails and hackles. Their orange irises
are fixed directly on mine, appearing as feral as their unruly coats. Their
razor-edged teeth are bared, columns of foamy drool spilling out of the corners
of their black gums.

A fit of trembling wreaks my body, my mouth
as dry as the dusty forest floor. Way to go, genius. What’s your next brilliant
step? Sure, you prevented the boy from being attacked, but by way of offering
your own flesh for them to feed on. Nice. Some time traveler you are. One
mission and you’re already finished!

I’ve lived through a few nail biters—being
held at gunpoint by a lunatic scientist and plummeting to my most certain death
in a hot-air balloon mishap, for example—but at the moment, feasted on by
wolves is ranking up there as the most horrifying. The pack has moved in
dangerously close, growling at me from deep within their chests. They’re
pushing me back out of the clearing, cornering me against the same dense patch
of shrubbery I was hiding behind. In another second, my plan is to turn around
and sprint like an Olympian track star, but I’m already doubtful I can outrun
them. They’ve got to be familiar with every nook and hollow in this blasted
forest. There’s nowhere I can hide they won’t track my human scent.

As I continue to cautiously step backward,
one eye steady on the wolves, my foot catches on a root. I trip and land on my
backside with a painful thud. So much for running. My vulnerable position
excites the wolves. They look moments from pouncing, leaning back in their
haunches, licking their chops at their easy prey. A scream escapes from my
lungs.

Trent Astor is many things—orphan, runaway, musician. But what’s most extraordinary about Trent is that he’s a time traveler. His supernatural gift sends him on missions to the past to save unsuspecting victims from harm. However, when he fails to save the life of a young girl, his life changes in ways he could never have dreamed.

At eleven-years-old, Cassie Moore suffered through a horrific shooting. Tragically scarred from the ordeal, the once promising tennis prodigy was forced to throw away all hope of a future in tennis. Now, as she begins her senior year of high school, the past continues to haunt her. She struggles to find herself, her self-esteem at an all time low. If only she could resolve the past, she might be able to move on with her life. She never imagined that could be possible until she meets the gorgeous new student in her PE class.

DOUBLE FAULT is the 2nd book in The Vortex Series where Cassie and Trent’s problems have only just begun. As they fight through the repercussions of creating a parallel world, other dangers are lurking. After years of running, Trent and his orphaned sister, Lorelai, sense the dangerous and power-hungry Dr. Fox is close to discovering their whereabouts.

While Cassie fears for Trent’s life, her tennis career hangs in the balance. Caught between her old and new life, she watches her world slowly crumble until it’s a tragic portrayal of all that she used to know. But worse yet, if her secret is revealed, she might lose what’s most dear to her heart.

Janine Caldwell was born in
Concord, CA and raised in the small San Francisco Bay Area town of Clayton.
Four days after high school graduation, Janine attended California Polytechnic
State University, San Luis Obispo and graduated with a degree in English.Janine now lives in Anthem, AZ
with her husband and two sons. As a lifelong literature fanatic, she knew it
was only a matter of time before she would become obsessed with writing her own
work. With relatives like the Brothers Grimm and Anita Loos (Gentlemen
Prefer Blondes), she figured fantasy writing had to be in her DNA.Books published by
Janine include Visited, a YA coming-of-age fantasy, Rematch and Double
Fault–the first two books of The Vortex Series. The final book in this YA
fantasy romance, Deuce, will be released soon

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